


Just Another Day

by Blitzindite



Series: Prompt Me [23]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Cathars (Star Wars), Fainting, Gen, Guns, Knives, Whump, character injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25637836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blitzindite/pseuds/Blitzindite
Summary: Shouting, blaster fire, and was that an explosion? Ah, just another day in the life of a smuggler.
Series: Prompt Me [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/936513
Kudos: 1





	Just Another Day

**Author's Note:**

> olivesandcreeks asked: "who's blood is that?" w/ the person most applicable

There were some days Jen would have preferred to face off with Imperials rather than Black Sun.

Today was one of those days.

… _A thousand times over._

He’d managed to sneak into Black Sun territory, but getting back out after nabbing the shipping information he’d been after? That was another matter entirely.

A blaster in each hand, boots thudding over metal docks, eyes trying their damnedest not to look down—not to see the open air for thousands of meters below him and the speeders zipping past fast enough that they’d end up killing him long before he could hit the ground so far below. Shouting, blaster fire, and was that an explosion?

Ah, just another day in the life of a smuggler.

Running, jumping, vaulting over a bewildered dock worker, Jen holstered his blasters to leap for a ladder. Another level up, another fifty meters added to the ones already between him and the ground. A blaster bolt shot past his head; he could smell the singed fur at his cheek.

A fang-baring grin, a hop to his step, a shout thrown over his shoulder without looking back at the pursuing gangsters: “Aw, c’mon! That the best you’ve got?”

His claws were unsheathed and they’d torn the fingertips of his gloves. That was the second pair he’d destroyed that week—Risha was going to kill him when she found out he’d need _another_ pair. The Cathar didn’t much care; it was funny when she got annoyed.

Off the docks, up onto the rooftops, Jen felt some relief when there were finally alleys not far below him instead. He’d still really _prefer_ not to fall off the roofs, but at least landing in the alleys wouldn’t make him go _splat_.

“Risha, where the hell’s that pickup?”

Corso’s voice was the one to crackle to life on the other side of Jen’s comm instead, _“We’ve, ah—whoa! Watch your fancy flyin’!—run into some trouble, Captain. Bowdaar’s comin’ on foot.”_

There was an explosion on Corso’s end that had Jen grimacing.

“My ship better be in one piece!”

“ _Your ship is the least of your concerns right now!”_ Risha interrupted. She was the one piloting, and Jen could practically _hear_ the way her teeth were grinding. _“Now shut up and get to the rendezvous.”_

Jen growled—even if he knew she was right. “…Fine. But I swear if she gets one scratch—”

“ _I hardly think you’ll notice a scratch through all the rust.”_

“Hey! She’s not rusty, just…just had _personality_.”

“ _Jendrush Sept.”_

Oh… Full name time, huh? he thought with a grimace. Oops. “Okay, okay, shutting up! Be there in a jiff— _make sure_ someone’s there for me, Risha!” He cut the line before he could get an answer and made a leap for the next roof.

Panting, legs burning, chest heaving. Almost there…

A shot finally met its target, grazing his elbow and forcing him to drop one of his blasters. Curses (in Basic? Catharese? He honestly had no idea and just grabbed blindly for whatever ones reached his tongue first and fit his rapidly souring mood best) were spilling out of Jen’s mouth before the weapon could even skitter across the roof to fall to the alley below.

It wasn’t long until he heard the telltale popping of a stealth generator activating. His nose twitched and fangs bared with a hiss. He could still smell the oil on the stealther’s clothes, even if he couldn’t see them.

“Uh, Risha? They _really_ don’t want me havin’ this data!”

“ _Keep running, you idiot.”_

“I was gonna stop and have a drink with them—no shit, ‘keep running’!”

Another jump—

A hiss escaped him when a vibroblade sliced through his vest with ease to bite into his side; it brought another pop as the blade’s owner cut the generator to make themself visible again. They were Human—small, lithe, able to keep up with Jen’s run even stealthed.

His foot slipped on the edge of the roof and next thing he knew, he was gasping for air after landing— _hard_ —on his back in the alley below.

There were voices. Too many of them. Over his comm, on the roof above, and…next to him? Two figured were rushing him, standing over him—one with shaggy fur, the other battle-scuffed armor. Bowdaar and Akaavi.

…Akaavi? Wasn’t she supposed to be running one of the ship’s guns?

“I’m fine, I’m fine! But we’ve really gotta work on your timing…” Jen mumbled as Bowdaar pulled him back to his feet. He couldn’t help but wince as he pressed a hand to his side; blood, warm and sticky, met his fingers.

Bowdaar’s inquisitive growl had him shaking his head. “Not like I haven’t been knifed before. It’s fine.”

The rest of the trip was a blur. Akaavi had slung one of his arms over her shoulders while Bowdaar watched their backs (what Black Sun still pursued were clearly hesitant to face a Wookiee _and_ a Mandalorian at the same time—what a relief).

The _Star Hopper_ was hovering, ramp down with Guss on it. He was gesturing wildly for the three of them to hurry up. Jen found himself shoved toward the ramp by Akaavi, and the Mon Calamari took his arm to help haul him up onto the ramp before the dizziness from being pushed had even subsided. As soon as they were all back onboard with the hatch latching behind them, Risha took off.

Jen peeled his gloves off to shove them in his pockets, absentmindedly picking away at the threads caught in his claws, as he followed the other three to the holoterminal.

He was dizzy—must have hit his head when he fell, he figured—and when he pulled the datapad out of his pocket, he nearly missed the terminal as he tossed the device on top of it. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jen leaned on the terminal. He…wasn’t feeling so good.

Another set of footsteps revealed Corso as he came up from manning the ship’s lower guns. He didn’t even make it to the holoterminal before he was scuffing his boot at something on the floor.

“Uh… Who’s blood is this?”

Jen risked a glance. Blood—drops of it leading from the ship’s entrance all the way to the terminal—dotted the floor. When the Human’s eyes found the stain in Jen’s vest, his frown only deepened.

“Captain? Tell me you just clawed someone real good.”

Wincing as he peeled the thick fabric of his vest away to get a better look for himself, Jen swallowed. “I, ah…guess it’s a little worse’n I thought…” His shirt, an off-white fabric no deciding deep red was more its color, clung to the wound; his gray fur stained dark when he pressed his hand to it again. “I’m not… I’m not feelin’ too…”

He pressed his hands firmly to the terminal, one of them leaving a bloody print beneath it. Head ducked, eyes squeezed shut, he tried to swallow past the rising nausea.

Over the ship’s intercom, Risha said…something. He wasn’t sure what. His head was swimming too much for him to understand her. An order, maybe; Guss and Corso scampered off only moments after she’d spoken.

A hand on his shoulder, trying to lead him somewhere to sit down.

Jen shook his head. “I think… I’m jus’ gonna…”

His knees buckled and he was out cold before he even hit the floor.


End file.
